Wednesday, October 7, 2009

I woke up at daylight:30. Teenage rednecks were kicking the dumpster and laughing hysterically. The psychedelic cheesecake from the night before made my eyes feel like splitting plums. The minimum wage warriors outside were slurring some backwoods street lingo that caused convulsions in my funny bone. My twisted tonsils erupted in laughter that sounded like a creature from the Alien Animal Channel. The post-pubescent pricks stopped laughing. They “lectured” me on my insanity, for at least an hour. In retrospect, one of them just said, “You crazy!” and they walked away.

This became the day I realized I was going to be a prisoner of a somewhat empty dumpster lined with banana peels, broken goods (an oxymoron) and luckily, scraps of things to write on. Being an artist, I always have a pen in pocket and value spare time for creative pursuits. I began tearing apart fast food bags, cardboard boxes, candy wrappers and whatever blank canvases I could find. For the following 11 days, my hallucinating mind would spring into action. I would transcribe one-to-five-liners captured between ventures back and forth from Delusionville to Dumpsteropolis.

Many of these pieces ended as insane babble. After using several stained coffee filters to sift through the jokes, witticisms, and absurd profundities.....I give you.....(drumroll)…..

Monday, October 5, 2009

I love garbage goodies! Being a trash troll, I pull up to a curb, grab something cool, and use it - the ultimate in recycling. Rarely, have I heard someone yell, “Hey, don’t put that to good use, I was trying to throw it away!” Imagine a yard sale, without those pesky price tags.

Now, my city has a University. We’ll call it “City University” (and never refer to it again). Whenever a semester ends, many of the college kiddies move out and dump their entire dorm rooms curbside. Much of my well-furnished home comes from what their mommies and daddies replace with magical, mystical credit cards. Thanks, folks! It’s exhilarating to garner gadgets from the undereducated youth of America.

Dumpster diving is a completely different animal. These metal monsters tend to be on private property, so now you’re dealing with business owners. They can be “grumpy” when someone puts their dented, discarded, expired products to good use. The fact that we live in a sue-happy culture doesn’t help.

So…..my trash tribulation begins on the day we’ll pretend I was training for the Olympics. Part of my workout consisted of reaching into a dumpster for “no-priced” items, focusing on my abs. It was dark outside, but with enough streetlight to peer inside. This particular vessel was nearly empty, but brimming with fate. I heard someone coming back to throw in another load, so I hopped inside and became perfectly still. He whipped in a black sack and, with a deafening SCREEEEEEECH slid the metal door shut. My plan was to wait for him to leave the premises before executing my daring escape.

He walked to his car, started it and drove away. With one swift jerk, I realized the door was locked. Yelling and pounding on the steel walls became pointless after about fifteen minutes. I finally convinced myself that I would have to wait until the cock crows to be discovered. Myself agreed with me, regarding the embarrassing consequence, and I settled in for the night.

I could smell food, amongst the sparse retail goodies, so I decided to investigate. I discovered an entirely unopened cheesecake with a severely dented box. It was warm, but didn’t stink. In retrospect, it didn’t stink, because I was surrounded by stink. I love cheesecake! I concluded that I had to eat as much as I could, before it went “bad”.

Afterward, I fluffed my grocery bag pillow stuffed with fast food leavings, closed my eyes and retired at the age of thirty-seven (I know…..I sound much younger.) I woke up, around what I assumed was 3:39 am, in intense pain! Fluorescent light penetrated the dumpster cracks. I couldn’t feel my arms, legs or long, flowing tail. I immediately went back to sleep, falling into a deathly spell.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Greetings! I'm Skot. I performed stand-up comedy for about six years in the 90's. Toured across the country in the major clubs, had a radio show in L.A., was part of an improv troupe in Colorado Springs, CO......blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, the tale you are about to hear, see and smell comes from my experience AFTER all that! It is a brief saga of one man's imprisonment in a dumpster, guarded by a colorful cast of hillbilly hoodlums.

IT IS FULLY ILLUSTRATED!!!

First, I will give you the beginning back-story. Then every other day, I will post a picture/witticism. Once I've posted 11 of these, I will move on to day 2, give you the back-story of day 2 and then post a picture/witticism every other day, etc......

Confusing, yes.

Brilliant, maybe.

Each picture has a dumpster background like this:

.....and a witticism written on a scrap piece of trash, like this:

.....then I combine the two.

ALL artwork is hand-drawn and photographed by me.
The story tickle's one's fancy......YOUR FANCY!!!